A long sought reunion
by Ookami28
Summary: Finding the shield and telling the village children his story awakens many more memories for Yoshitsu, and he spends the following night thinking back to everything that happened those years after Trico returned him to the village, and how it affected his life. But even after all this time, is it still too late to hope of ever seeing Trico again?
1. Chapter 1

_A little note: The reason I've named the boy "Yoshitsu" is based on a comment from The Last Guardian's director where he said that the boy's name is spoken by one of the villagers in the final cutscene, which sounds like this name. And I figured that naming him would make things easier than refer to him as "boy" the whole story. :P_

 _On we go! :)_

* * *

The aged man woke with a start at a powerful wind grabbing his hut, making the roof moan under its force. A sigh escaped his lips at the scare, and the man shifted his gaze to a sleeping woman next to him, a long braid of dark hair twirled over her sides slowly rising and falling with her breath. Yoshitsu's gaze went from his wife to the other side of the dusty oak floor where the wall adjourned with other rooms, then listened at the neighbouring huts for any sounds, any whimpers of children or mutters of adults, but heard none.

As usual, he figured, he was the only one awakened by the storm.

Yoshitsu let his weakened hearing be at rest and leaned his head back against the straw pillow, another sigh blending with the wind whispering and grasping the hut as rain started drumming above him. He let his mind wander, absent-mindedly let his right hand slip off the covers and carefully felt around in the darkness beneath his bed until his fingertips grazed something muddy and cold.

The touch made his heart skip a beat, and he withdrew his hand, shifted to his left side and closed his eyes. Tried to suppress the shiver that ran through his body from the touch, to suppress the tears that unwillingly pressed on tired eyes that hadn't shed tears for many years.

He wondered why it was that he ever since returning to the village, would wake up at storms. Regardless how silently they passed by, if the floor boards or turf roof barely creaked around him, if the rain grazing the roof only passed by in a hushed whisper, he would find his eyes shut open to scan the surrounding space, his heart beating a little faster, his breath slightly agitated, his forehead slightly sweaty.

It usually didn't linger for long. These night scares would last a few seconds perhaps, before the reality at hand eased his body into returning to sleep, and he would awake fully rested in the morning as if it hadn't occurred, as if those nightly scares were but a dream themselves. They were not so much a physical nuisance to him than they were reminders of an event so far back in time that memories of the event themselves had become weaker than memories of the storms were.

Until yesterday, that was.

Yoshitsu lifted a wrinkled hand to graze the corner of his eye that had turned wet, and felt a headache brewing as he once again visited those memories that had come crashing down on him the minute he'd laid eyes on the shield.

The shield. It had been there all along. Hidden only a dozen miles or so from his hometown. Along with his peculiar skin markings, it preserved the fact that his memories were real. That it had all really happened. That it wasn't just a crazy dream from his childhood. Or an idea his senile mind had fabricated in his later years.

"Trico…"

A shiver ran through his body at the name. He had said it several times the day before, telling the village children of the story. But somehow, saying it now, in the silent darkness, with no awoken soul nearby, it shook him even further.

How many years had passed since the last time he had spoken the name? Years? Decades?

He recalled a time when he had said it several times a day. Not only while traveling with the creature, but afterwards as well. All the days he had spent searching for Trico after he disappeared. As he was telling the village children of his story, the days after his and Trico's journey ended had still been a blur, but now, as if the memories all came back in fragments, he saw more and more clearly the days following his return to the village and Trico's disappearance.

* * *

He couldn't have told at first if he had been dreaming. His body was burning up, his head was beating. He felt as if he were swimming somewhere, in a river of something warm, something throbbing. It engulfed him, wrapped a safe cocoon around him and made him at ease. Then something had pulled him out of the river, out of the dream.

He heard roaring.

Trico's roaring. Men shouting.

Men?

A bright sun scorched down on Yoshitsu and offered little more but a blinding light as he attempted to open his eyes. He felt a pair of strong arms holding him. There were more of Trico's roaring. They had sounded threatening at first, his usual roars when he had attacked the moving armours hunting his boy. Suddenly, Trico's roars had turned to whimpers. Yoshitsu knew that sound too. It was the sound he made when those cursed armours would plant a spear in his side or in his leg. Trico's recurring payment for protecting Yoshitsu. Only these weren't cursed armours this time. Surrounding Yoshitsu were the shouts of ordinary men.

But the same thing was happening. They were hurting Trico.

Yoshitsu tried squirming. The pair of arms held him tightly and didn't ease their grip. He still couldn't tell if this was a dream or reality. His head continued pounding, a bright sun kept him from properly opening his eyes, and even if he did, he was sure his dizziness would make him fall over, throw up, or faint. Or perhaps wake him up from the strange dream.

Another loud whimper from Trico. Yoshitsu's heart hurt. Regardless if this was dream or reality, he couldn't stand hearing it, couldn't stand the anguished pain of his friend. Trico had suffered enough because of him. It had to be enough. But Yoshitsu was in no condition to leap onto Trico's feathers and tell him to get them out of here.

Not this time.

"Go… Trico…"

He felt the words, hoarse and pained, leave his mouth. The strain he felt from speaking let him further know that this might be real. That Trico was really there. That he was really being attacked by people. And that he was really telling Trico to leave.

"Trico… hurry…"

Another stabbing sound. Another whimper filled the air. The angry shouts of men grew more agitated.

 _Please…_

Yoshitsu felt tears pressing on his eyes now. There was no way this pain was fake. This had to be real.

"Go… Trico… **_Flee_** …!"

He gathered what strength he managed into that last word. For a moment, the shouts and whimpers silenced. A gasp rushed through the crowd around him. Thuds of large feet gripped the ground. Feet that suddenly, the boy could feel, stomped towards him. Then it stopped. The sun was cut off by a massive shadow sweeping over him, before galloping feet once again shook the earth.

"It's getting away!"

"Stop it!"

Just as Yoshitsu had started to realize it wasn't a dream, did he feel the numbing dizziness return. His mind once again returned to the state of intermediate between dream and reality, this time, closer to the former, as he felt his body succumbing to an overwhelming urge to fall asleep. Or was he fainting? He couldn't tell. Still, in his last moments of consciousness, Yoshitsu made one last attempt to open his eyes, and barely caught a glimpse of a Trico… his Trico…?… flying high above, roaring down at the world, before disappearing amidst golden clouds.

Afterwards, Yoshitsu recalled, the village doctors had told him that he had been asleep for three days.

The shock, the wounds, the exhaustion of the whole event, they figured, had put him in a coma they had feared would prove too much on his young body, and that his life might just have drained out from him. But after three days, he woke up, and after having adjusted his eyes to the light that almost felt alien to him now, having sipped the warm water they carefully poured him, eaten the porridge and bread crusts that made his empty stomach nearly ache of satisfaction, only then did he realize it had all been real and that he was really home.

And that was when he started crying.

Yoshitsu unintentionally let out at a chuckle at the sudden memory of this, but indeed, down and down his child self's tears had poured, till his cheeks had been red and his eyes puffy and glowing of the emotions overflowing his heart. He would sob loudly, like a toddler, boring his head into the pillow to silence his pitiful voice when he eventually grew shameful of his displays that would happen more than once.

"Poor child, the trauma he must have gone through." The village doctors, and by extension, anyone who could hear him or come see to him would comment. "We can only imagine the horror" was another one. "To be trapped within that beast's stomach…!" he overheard a day they were talking in murmurs outside his room. "Perhaps he has nightmares every night that causes this crying…"

Another three days after he had woken up passed, and Yoshitsu's uncontrollable outbursts finally calmed down. The tears still occasionally pressed on his eyes, but he breathed slowly and gathered his mind and only let them fall when night time came. Having received his supper on the fifth night since waking up, now consisting of more proper nourishment such as wild boar meat and buttered rice, (apparently too much food immediately following a coma was damaging, the doctors believed), he let his head fall back on the matted pillow and let out a long sigh, trying to focus his body into being at rest, to finally enjoy the fact that he was at home, lying safely on a bed, surrounded by his own kin.

He had wondered for some time, perhaps ever since the day he woke up, if he should tell them… or _some_ of them, for starters, of the truth. Of the real reason he was crying. But how would it sound to them?

How would it sound that he wasn't crying out of any trauma the Trico had inflicted on him? How would it sound that he was crying because… he _missed_ the Trico?

That he missed the Trico because it had been his _friend?_

Surely, he had no good answer. The doctors would have thought he'd suffered some head trauma in the process, or dismissed it as the imaginative talk of a ten-year old. He didn't want them laughing at him. He didn't want them looking at him like he was crazy. He didn't want the memory of the adventure and his precious friendship with Trico sullied by the disbelieving, disapproving eyes of adults.

So he kept silent.

A week had passed since he woke up from his coma, and Yoshitsu could finally step out the hut. Step back into the world. Yoshitsu breathed deeply and even felt an unconscious smile spread at the sensation of sun rays warming his face, a light breeze playing with his hair, wet grass tickling his feet. It was strange, he thought, looking around to find the ordinary life of his village not having changed. The other children were playing by the oak trees, throwing a leather ball and slipping in the mud from the previous day's rainfall. Some adults were scolding them for the mess they made of their clothes, others had already returned with baskets of newly washed clothes from the nearby river. From somewhere behind the huts, the scent of cooked fish reached Yoshitsu's nose and he made a face.

Even as it was all so familiar to him, Yoshitsu still couldn't shake the feeling that he had stepped into a strange world. What he saw was home, but at the same time, it didn't feel like home. He looked at the villagers, both young and old, and wondered how he could ever… feel like them again. To just feel… "normal", to not having experienced anything extraordinary, anything life-changing, as he had. During the days he has traversed the valley with Trico, both he and Trico had been close to dying several times, and from those moments, Yoshitsu realized he had felt more alive than ever. Yes, he was only ten, but he still felt a confidence thinking he'd still lived through more those few days than any of the villager's had, even if they were of fifty or seventy years old.

This thought made something inside Yoshitsu burst with uncontrollable joy, and before he knew it, he had already run into the woods, away from the village. His legs were weak and clumsy at first, having been passive for so many days, and he stumbled and fell at least twice, barely noticing from the mental high he rode as he just got back up and kept running.

Soon his legs remembered their strength and carried him further into the woods, over creeks, between old pine- and oak trees, across golden wheat fields. Not really sure how long he had run for, the endeavour eventually caught up with him as Yoshitsu fell to his knees to catch a breather and wipe some sweat from his forehead. Looking ahead, he saw the hill he remembered was here, towering a few dozen feet above him, peaked by a hundred year old maple tree waving its lush leaves in the summer wind.

Yoshitsu knew this spot was the highest in many miles, and he took a deep breath before resolving to climb it before he'd collapse of the exhaustion he realized hit him after the spontaneous high was wearing off. Reaching the top and leaning against the furrowed bark of the old tree, Yoshitsu squinted his eyes to find he could still see the village in the distance, but it was far enough away that they wouldn't hear him if he shouted.

And so that was what he did.

"Trico!"

He jolted at how hoarse his voice was. Only now did he think of how he hadn't spoken properly but for a few whispers and moans to his nurses when asking for food or hinting that he wanted to be left alone, and suddenly shouting nearly felt as if something teared in his throat. But figuring it a natural result of how long he had been passive, same as with his legs, he ignored it and repeated:

 **"** **Trico!"**

He paused and scouted the forests and fields in every direction covering the horizon, nearly holding his breath so not to disturb any sounds that would come in response.

He wasn't really sure what to expect.

A part of Yoshitsu had all this time believed that Trico had just fled out of the immediate threat of the villagers, and that he would hide nearby and wait for his boy to come get him again. To tell him that it was safe and that he could come out of hiding. That they could play and be together again. They had been through so much, Trico wouldn't just leave him, would he?

 **"** **Tricooo!"**

Another pressing silence followed, only broken by the wind rustling the maple leaves above him and a chirping sparrow from somewhere down below. Having listened for another minute, Yoshitsu cleared his throat and tried again. _If_ Trico was hiding somewhere, this would be the spot he would hear him from, Yoshitsu was certain of.

Two hours passed of shouting, listening and waiting. Yoshitsu eventually sat down, leaning against the maple with his arms crossed as he rubbed himself to keep warm while the sun was closing in on the horizon, leaving only a red light caressing the hilltop with the tree and him. Yoshitsu lowered his gaze and felt utterly discouraged, the opposite of two hours ago. The joy and confidence he had felt at believing himself such an experienced, out of the ordinary ten-year old slowly vanished with the sinking of the sun, the approaching dark and cold protruding through his body making him feel small and scared, and right now all he wanted was to get back to his home.

As he got up, tears pressed on his eyes, and Yoshitsu rubbed them in frustration while trotting down the path from the hilltop. Whether they were tears from annoyance at still feeling like a scared child, or from sadness that Trico hadn't shown up, he wasn't sure. All he knew was he couldn't stop them from rolling down his cheeks while he ran as fast as he could home before the darkness would engulf him.

Yoshitsu wasn't going to give up though. For the next few days, he continued to come to the hilltop, to shout and to listen for Trico, for an hour or two, before returning home, then repeating it the next day. Sometimes he would even go early in the morning, then try again late in the evening. So long as he got back before the sun set, he didn't mind taking the trip twice a day. After two weeks had passed, however, Yoshitsu felt his enthusiasm dampen somehow, as well as his family worrying what he was doing out in the woods for so long every day. He would simply have to give them a story of just being a normal, curios ten-year old out exploring, certainly not that he was trying to call back the creature that had kidnapped him and countless others.

So he lessened his trips to every second day, then three times a week. By the time two months had passed, the trips were down to twice a week.

As Yoshitsu was sitting by the maple tree the day that marked about two months since the first time he came there, he rested his eyes on the horizon, scouting for any response to his shouts as usual while trying not too hard to think of what his father had told him the other day.

"That Trico, it looked in pretty bad shape when it brought you back."

Yoshitsu picked at his food with his chopstick, not feeling like looking his father in the eye at the topic being brought up.

"The villagers planted some spears in it too before it flew off, for all we know it might be dead by now."

Yoshitsu had paused his movement and stopped breathing for a second. His heart had dropped like an anvil in his chest. It wasn't true.

It had to be true.

No _._ He had seen the damage Trico had endured. All the spears he had suffered while protecting him. There was no way Trico would die by a few more.

But what about all that terrible beating he had suffered from the other Tricos?

But he had flown him all the way home, hadn't he? He couldn't have done that if he was dying... could he?

But then, why wasn't Trico answering to his calls? Why had he left him, just like that? Hadn't their journey meant more to Trico than a few village men being enough to chase him away forever?

Yoshitsu had to excuse himself from the table and retreat to his room with his thoughts, feeling tears starting to press on his eyes again and not wanting to worry his father further than he'd already done. It was enough crying now.

Yoshitsu lied facing the wall with his arms wrapped around his legs, staring at the tiny worm marks in the wood in front of him. Just as he had exited the dining room with his father's confused words at his back, Yoshitsu had realized something he had completely forgotten up until then.

After all, wasn't _he_ the one who had told Trico to leave?

The ten-year old pondered if this realization didn't make him see things clearer. After all, why _would_ Trico come back? He and the creature had formed a strong bond, yes, but Trico still wasn't a pet. He wasn't a dog that would come to Yoshitsu's beck and call and fetch a stick and (perhaps thankfully) sleep by his bed. Trico was a wild animal. A wild animal that had simply returned to his home and, Yoshitsu found himself hoping, his own kin. He didn't know what had happened at the end of the fight with the other Tricos, he only vaguely remembered trying to use the shield to destroy the Master of the Valley. After that, his mind was blank. But seeing as Trico had taken him home, it had to mean he had succeeded and the other Tricos weren't hostile anymore.

So he could hope, at least. Yoshitsu realized that it should become apparent if no Tricos came around anymore to kidnap people. Before, those dreaded events would happen every second or third month, no exceptions. Now, two months had passed since Yoshitsu hopefully had destroyed the device that, it turned out, had mind-controlled the innocent Tricos to do its bidding, and apart from "his" Trico, no other Tricos had showed up since either.

Yoshitsu decided. If another month passed with no Trico appearances, he would tell the villagers what had happened. Not everything, that was. He still didn't feel the courage to tell them he befriended one of the Tricos. In Yoshitsu's mind, telling them that he had found the Master of the Valley and destroyed it, seemed more likely to be believed. After all, even if the villagers wouldn't initially believe it, it would be proved either way by the disappearance of the Tricos. His friendship with the one Trico, however, could not be proved. No matter how badly he might wish it. Not if _his_ Trico was never returning.

* * *

If trees were alive, the century old maple tree would surely be curios of the little boy visiting it so often, the boy found himself thinking from time to time. Perhaps the maple even spread the news on to the birds, snails and beetles residing on its branches, who would then carry it on to other trees. Yoshitsu even wondered if that was how forests would spread news to _other_ forests?

One day, the old maple tree might be curios of the 18-year old man standing in place of the little boy. An 18-year old who was twice the height of the ten-year old, with dark locks nearly reaching his shoulders and a chin covered in light brown fuzz. But the eyes that gazed at the branches covered in the blooming buds of that year's leaves, were a familiar shade of blue, and the hand reaching out to caress the moss covered bark bore unmistakably familiar markings resembling tattoos.

Running his hand down the furrowed bark that Yoshitsu thought, contrary to him, had not aged more at all, he breathed in what scent he could of the familiar surroundings while letting his eyes once again wander the horizon in front of him. It wasn't like a long time had passed since he last was here. He would still occasionally come here to the place that had become more of a secret getaway than anything else.

Yoshitsu had stopped calling for Trico years ago, but still felt like scouting the horizon sometimes and listen for any peculiar sounds if only out of habit. He came here now to read his books, attempt drawings of the landscape, or simply be alone with his thoughts. At times, he had also come to be alone from all the attention and awe he had garnered over the years due to having been "the boy who lived". Not only had he survived and returned from being kidnapped by a Trico, said Trico had also been the last time anyone had ever seen one. Naturally, this curios fact would cause the villagers, both young and old, to believe there was something supernatural to Yoshitsu, or that he was a "gift from God" in the shape of a human child who'd rid them all of the Trico plague. Whatever it was, he could very well be without all the unwanted attention it had given him, and so the maple tree hill had been a good place to retreat to simply enjoy some peace and quiet.

Not to mention how ridiculous it was. He was an ordinary child who had simply been lucky enough to befriend the Trico that kidnapped him, and ultimately got access to the Master of the Valley which allowed him to destroy it. He supposed the shield and the lightning it summoned from Trico's tail qualified as supernatural, but how would explaining _that_ detail, upon it only being possible by the friendship he and the creature had, have sounded like? It was well enough that the villagers believed there was _something_ about him that had allowed him to live and save them all from the Tricos. So long as they hadn't gotten too up in arms about it, acted too worshipping, or afraid, of him, he didn't mind them making up their own theories. He had regardless not felt ready yet to tell the true tale. Not even after eight years had passed.

And now he was getting ready to leave.

For a long time, Yoshitsu had decided. While he had long since come to terms with possibly never seeing Trico again, their adventure together had to mean something. Having gone through that experience, there was no way Yoshitsu could just stay in the village his whole life. There was no way he'd had his greatest adventure at the age of ten. His adventure with Trico had taught him that; there was so much more to life if one dared explore it. It couldn't go to waste.

So he knew that as soon as he'd come of age, he would leave the village to travel. Therefore, this day that marked his eighteenth year, would be the last time he came to this hill, and to this tree, in a very uncertain amount of time. Yoshitsu wondered if he would be gone years? Decades?

Yoshitsu reached his hand inside his tunic to grab something. Pulling the small, grey object out, he held it tightly between his thumb and index finger so the wind wouldn't grab it, and kept his gaze at it for several seconds.

Yoshitsu had found the feather belonging to Trico not long after his then daily trips here as a ten-year old had started, stuck in a raspberry bush just on his path to the hill one day, nearly looking like it was waving him to it as it was caressed by the wind. Having held on to it for eight years, it was obviously in a worn down shape, missing several of its barbs and the once black middle had faded to white. It was still unmistakably Trico's feather, however, and had been safely kept in a wooden box in his room all this time, but somehow Yoshitsu felt that now that he was leaving, this was the place it should be.

"Watch over it for me, won't you?" He gently ran two other fingers over the feather for a last touch, before edging it underneath the bark a place it had cracked so that the feather leaned upright, giving the spot next to it a few pats again as if to encourage his words to the tree. Yoshitsu didn't imagine that the feather would always stay there, but believing it would stay for a few days at least, felt enough, that it remained until he was at least out of this area.

"I guess this is it." Yoshitsu lingered his hand on the tree for a few more seconds, before backing up and pull on the strap around his shoulder to adjust the leather bag he was bringing. He had already bid goodbye to his father and everyone in the village. The maple tree was his last stop. Last, but not least, as they said. Letting his eyes wander the horizon one last time and breathing in another whiff of air faintly scented of the maple tree, Yoshitsu realized there couldn't be any harm in doing it one last time before he left. Even though he hadn't done it in years. Now seemed a good time for (as far as he knew) a really final farewell.

 **"** **Trico! Did you hear that? I'm leaving!"**

Yoshitsu paused and, contrary to his younger self, felt more amused at his shouts now than hopeful. At the same time, he realized his voice had changed since he was a young boy, and pondered that if Trico had heard him now, would he even recognize him anymore? Somehow that thought sparked a little desperation in Yoshitsu, and he cupped his mouth, closed his eyes and shouted with all his might.

 **"** **I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL BE BACK! BUT I'LL TAKE CARE OF MYSELF! TRICO, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOO, OKAY?!"**

One final time, more out of habit than anything, Yoshitsu listened for a response, and one final time, received none. Yoshitsu sighed while letting out a tiny smile, straightening his back again and grabbing at his shoulder strap. He then said, in what was barely above a whisper: "Lead a good life, friend."

And then, like he had done that very first time he came here as a ten-year old, he took off running down the hill. But unlike that time, he wasn't a frightened child whose cheeks soaked of tears while running for home. He was now an adult running with a giant smile on his face, not running for his home, but headed for the big world. And for the first time, he felt as though his memories of Trico took a backseat to everything he was feeling, and to everything he wanted to see. And he welcomed that bittersweet sensation with every fibre of his being for every step he took.

* * *

Author's note: Sooo this was originally going to be a oneshot, but it just ended up getting longer than I thought that I ultimately found it best to split it into two parts. If you reached all the way here, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it so far and will stay tuned for the continuation and ending. :) And of course feel free to leave a review, they're much appreciated! :) Till next time!


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time that night since he started revisiting those memories, Yoshitsu felt a wide smile spread at remembering the beginning of his journey that had lasted all those years.

How much he had seen. How much he had learned. How many fascinating people he had met …How far he had travelled through it all. He must at least have been through five or more countries on his feet alone. Perhaps he could have done more had he really been endlessly wandering all that time, but ultimately he hadn't. Yoshitsu had found places and people to his liking, and settled at places for a while, sometimes for years. He had met bakers, horse trainers, shoe makers, blacksmiths, martial artists, translators, writers, many more. Eventually, he had found it a second goal to learn something from every person with a profession he found, and they had all been happy to lend him some of their knowledge. After a decade on the road, Yoshitsu had settled in a new village for about two more years where he met the woman that would later be his wife. Hana and him had fell for each other, and laughed and loved for many months, before Yoshitsu couldn't help but long for the road again. But at the same time, it was the first time he had felt at a crossroads, not wanting to leave his love behind either.

"Never you mind, my dear", Hana had said, "I'm coming with you."

Present day Yoshitsu felt another smile at this, and shifted his head to gaze at the back of his wife's head next to him, still deep in her sleep, and he lifted his hand to graze it over her shoulder. For many years, she did travel with him, until one day, she grew tired, and loved the nature and animals and people at the new place they stayed so much that she insisted he should go on alone; she would be there when he returned. And so he went on alone again. Through forests, villages, more forests. Mountains. Another village. Another mountain. Spring, summer, fall, winter. Then spring again. Growing stronger, more experienced, more wiser, throughout the years. Yoshitsu experienced friendships, love from older people, love from children, injuries, hunger, doubt, then new-born faith and passion again. By the time he had reunited with his wife and they decided to return to his home village at long last, Yoshitsu found he had become nearly 40 years old.

Never once in his travels, however, had Yoshitsu forgotten Trico.

Had the creature slipped from his mind more and more over the years? For certain he had. The more Yoshitsu had travelled, the less he had thought about Trico and the grand adventure they'd had. Sometimes, even years could go by without him thinking of his unusual childhood friend. But then there would be a moment, something he saw, perhaps for a second only, to make it all come flowing back.

Yoshitsu remembered well a day about fifteen years after he had started travelling, passing through a village as usual, when he saw a little boy playing with a dog a few sizes too big for him. Yoshitsu had had to stop and observe them, having stared for what was probably several minutes before he moved on, wiping away a tear that unwillingly appeared at the corner of his eye, memories of Trico and himself somehow triggered by the sight. Other times, he might spot a large feather lying on the ground and a flash of his young boy self's hands grabbing at Trico's feathers would pass over his eyes. At another point during his journey, he had walked past a blacksmith's shop that crafted armours looking so much like the armours from the Valley that Yoshitsu had started sweating and had to hurry past the place, feeling at unrest for a while afterwards.

Somehow he had hoped that returning to his home village would be so long after the event that those forlorn memories would seize to spring on him like that. And for the most part they had. Instead, the next peculiar thing happened with Yoshitsu starting to wake up whenever storms roamed on the outside. When that happened enough times, Yoshitsu had to conclude it subconsciously reminded his body of the stormy night Trico had kidnapped him, and that only being back at the very place it happened was the trigger.

As if he was just reminded of why he lied here awake going through all these memories, Yoshitsu listened to his surroundings and found that the rain and wind had died down, perhaps long ago, and the only sounds he heard was the breathing of his spouse and him. Yoshitsu sighed and realized he finally found tiredness draping his mind, and he welcomed it all the while he couldn't help but think through the parts he felt missing from his time travelling line of thought.

It had already been ten years since he and his wife returned to his home, and Yoshitsu had become 50 years old.

His father, bless his heart, had still been alive upon his return, and cried tears from joys and nearly fainted at the homecoming. Thanks to him, Yoshitsu would not be a stranger to any new villager after his 22 years on the road. No, "the boy who lived", his _son_ , had returned, and it was not something that would go by unnoticed. So whether Yoshitsu had liked it or not, it had been celebrated for days on end, and afterwards, well, not only was Yoshitsu someone who'd been kidnapped by a Trico and lived, he was also the only villager to have travelled as much as he had. It was almost natural that he'd be bestowed the unofficial title as the wise elder of the village. Just as before, so long as people didn't bother him too much about it, Yoshitsu could live with that.

During one of the more quiet evenings after his return, Yoshitsu had also gone to visit the maple tree.

While he rarely thought of Trico anymore, Yoshitsu thought it natural he had to visit the last place he'd been before he left, and a small part of him couldn't help but be curios if the feather would still be there. Returning to the place he'd left over 20 years ago, he wasn't surprised to see that it wasn't.

On the other hand, he was more surprised to see that the tree did look older this time. It had already been over a century old when he was a child, but the bark was even greyer now, the branches more crooked and the moss even whiter. It was late fall, and while he couldn't tell if it was simply for the lack of leaves, Yoshitsu thought the tree's pale nakedness gave the impression that it perhaps was dying at last.

Yoshitsu sighed and gave the tree a light pat before turning around and heading home, not bothering to linger more. His ten year old-self would surely have felt sorry for the tree he'd visited so often and stay by it for a while, imagining all sorts of thoughts and sights the tree would have living on that hill for over a century, and what thoughts it had now that it maybe was dying, but the 40 year old Yoshitsu was more sensible. There was no point feeling sorry for an old tree.

With that, he returned to the village and didn't visit the maple tree hill again.

Six or more village children hunching over something at the ground caught Yoshitsu's attention, and as he noticed the other adults on the small field excursion were busy elsewhere gathering herbs or collect water from the creek, he made his way over to the children to see what was so interesting.

The sight made his heart skip a beat, and Yoshitsu had to take a second to catch his breath, to blink his eyes a few times to make sure he was seeing right. And just like that, all the memories from 40 years ago returned once more.

But this time, a thought that he hadn't had for a long while returned too. His memory of how frightened he had been to share his story. That time he had been a child and later a teenager, too scared of not being believed by the adults. Now, _he_ was the adult looking down upon the children, giving wide eyed and curios stares back at him. What _was_ this thing they had found in the dirt?

Yoshitsu leaned his head back and drew some air, feeling a content smile spread on his lips, before looking back at them with a warm gaze.

"Why don't you dig that thing out and dust the dirt from it. Then bring it to me and gather around me, children, for I will tell you an extraordinary story…"

* * *

A few more days passed after the children's finding of the shield and Yoshitsu telling them his and Trico's story. Despite how it had all shaken him so much, things seemed to quickly be back to normal. Yoshitsu had slept soundly through the other nights, and the children didn't seem to have any follow-up questions of his story. One thing Yoshitsu did see one day, however, was three of the children acting out their interpretation of what he had told, where one child had covered himself in mud to apparently resemble armour and wave his wooden sword at the other boy Yoshitsu guessed was meant to be him, shouting for "Trico" to help when the third child dropped down on all fours and bit the first boy's leg with his teeth. The mud-covered boy yelped and smacked the third boy's head with the wooden sword, shouting that he wasn't supposed to bite _that_ hard. Yoshitsu had laughed heartily at the scene.

Two more days had passed since then, when Yoshitsu found himself shook out of his sleep again, on the fifth night since the shield had been dug up.

Letting out a tired sigh, Yoshitsu listened for what storm was engulfing the village now; was it raining, thundering, windy. Or all three?

But to his puzzlement, Yoshitsu heard nothing.

Once again, his and Hana's breathing were the only sounds filling the space around him, apart from the occasional creaking sounds of the old huts or some light shaking of leaves in the trees above their roof. Yoshitsu furrowed his eyebrows and shifted his head towards the small window of his hut, looking out to see that it indeed was a quiet night, bathed in a nigh full moon to boot. Looking back at the roof, Yoshitsu let out another disgruntled sigh and closed his eyes to try and reclaim the sleep he'd apparently lost for no reason, but this time, found that he could not go back to it.

Turning back and forth in his bed, Yoshitsu felt something inside him being at edge, as if he had just woken up from an unsettling dream that caused him unrest. Only he couldn't remember dreaming anything. Eventually sitting up, Yoshitsu looked down at his arms to see them covered in slight goosebumps. But why? He wasn't cold?

 _What is going on? Am I sensing a ghost or something?_

Yoshitsu breathed nervously and lifted himself from the bed, slowly so not to wake his wife, and quietly paced back and forth over the floor while considering the sensation in his body. He realized his heart was beating slightly faster as well. Whether it was from the unrest he already was feeling at the strangeness of the situation, or if it had been like that the whole time, he wasn't sure, but it certainly didn't help his state of mind right now. Stopping in his tracks, he tried breathing slowly in an out, when he somehow realized he felt an urge to go outside. Well, naturally, fresh air might be the thing…

Just then, another thought arrived in Yoshitsu's head, and regardless how random and inane it seemed, it wouldn't disappear when he'd first thought of it. Yoshitsu turned his head to gaze at the shield he'd leaned against a corner, and while clearing his head of more thoughts, went over to grab it and bring it with him.

Once outside, the cold air seemed to wake Yoshitsu up from the dazed state he'd just entered that would have him bring the shield, and he looked back and forth between it and his hut, wondering if he was really going senile now at his relatively young age.

Wanting to turn and head back into his hut, however, Yoshitsu still couldn't shake the trembling feeling in his body that made his hairs stand on end and his heart beat louder, and he thought how even if he did go back, he'd be incapable of going back to sleep, that much was clear.

So where would he go? And what was he doing with the shield? Yoshitsu squinted his eyes to look ahead into the dark forest in front of him. Somehow, the tenseness of his body grew further, a sudden gust of wind hitting him in the back made his goosebumps spread. This feeling, however… it wasn't… uncomfortable. Something was stirring and itching at his heart, but more than the sense of stress it'd given him earlier at the surprise of it, it now almost made him feel… giddy. It was like… he _wanted_ to wander into the forest. At _night_. As if something was… calling him to go there.

Another gust of wind, warmer this time, engulfed Yoshitsu and gently pushed at him, as if the wind itself was encouraging him. Before he knew it, a lump grew in Yoshitsu's throat and a tear pressed at the corner of his eye.

 _It… can't be…_

Like a sleepwalker, Yoshitsu kept his grip at the shield and started walking. Straight into the woods. But the nigh full moon glowed brightly and allowed him to still see clearly where he stepped. Yoshitsu wasn't really thinking anymore, he just walked. If he did start to think, he knew, he'd see the insaneness of what he was doing and turn straight back. And he didn't want to turn back.

Somewhere an owl was hooting. A frog was croaking from a pond a few feet from where he walked. The occasional crickets scattered at his steps. Yoshitsu's path was covered with slippery leaves, broken branches and rocks it was easy to trip on if he wasn't careful, so he calmed his mind enough to see where he was going, slowly traversing these obstacles made much harder by the near dark, a far cry from how fast he had scurried past all these as a young boy the first time he went looking for Trico.

Was that what he was doing now? Yoshitsu had to stop and take a breather while wiping some leaves and broken twigs off his shoulders, and eventually force himself to consider what he was doing.

Had he really gone out here thinking he might… find Trico?

 _What is wrong with me..?_

Yoshitsu felt as if he suddenly looked at himself with a different pair of eyes, not of the nostalgic, hopeful man, but of the grown-up and sensible man he really was, who should know better than this and keep the other imaginative side reigned in. Clutching at his chest to realize the odd sensation in his body had faded at last too, Yoshitsu felt it all being a letdown, realizing how it confirmed that after all these years, he still hadn't gotten over Trico. No matter how many years passed or how long he could go without thinking of his brief but unforgettable childhood friend, was he going to be subconsciously mourning Trico the rest of his life?

Yoshitsu meant to turn back when he noticed a great field just a little further beyond the woods, its long straws whispering in the wind. Recognizing it as the field marking about halfway between his village and the maple tree hill he hadn't been to but once since he came back, Yoshitsu thought he might as well take in the view of how the entire field was painted a gentle blue by the moonlight. Also, it was possible to see the maple tree from a distance there, he knew. He hadn't been to it in ten years, so simply catching a glance at it from a distance felt a nostalgic temptation now in the quiet of the night.

Taking his first steps into the sapphire field, Yoshitsu only now seemed to realize he was still holding onto the shield. Sighing dejectedly at himself, he left it on the ground at last and continued further into the field. Enjoying the tickling feeling of the straws grazing his legs, Yoshitsu drew in a deep breath to really catch the scent of the newly grown field in this month of spring. Looking ahead to where the tip of the forest drew a line beneath a protruding hill, Yoshitsu had to halt his steps at what he saw.

The maple tree, like the trees surrounding the field, was not at all dead, but in full bloom. The silhouette of its leaves, just as before, was outgrowing the sizes of other tree's silhouettes by far. Here Yoshitsu had thought a decade ago that it was dying. But in his absence it had thrived and lived on as if no years had passed at all.

Yoshitsu almost felt like traversing the dark further to go visit the tree once more, and he was about to take another step forward, when something above him caught his eye.

Yoshitsu's gaze wandered to a small object falling towards the ground in a twirling motion some twenty feet from where he was standing, before disappearing into the grass. Yoshitsu furrowed his eyebrows and made his way over to where it had fallen. Looking down to see what the object was, Yoshitsu's jaw fell. His heart felt as if it skipped a beat and he stood frozen for what he thought was at least a minute, staring at the object before he finally dared to move.

Slowly, Yoshitsu leaned down and grabbed the feather with three gentle fingers, as if it would crumble at his touch.

It… wasn't the feather he had left at the tree thirty years ago, even as that might have been impossible, seeing that wouldn't at least have frightened him this much. This feather was new.

It was huge.

It was grey.

The only one he knew this feather could belong to was…

At that moment, Yoshitsu heard a sound he would have recognized anywhere. Even if it had been 40 years since he'd heard it.

* * *

I'm sorry, I lied! This was going to be the final part, but then I figured this was a perfect place to leave a cliffhanger before diving into what I've been looking forward to all the time while writing this – and I'm sure you know what that'll be. ;) Stay tuned for the ending!

(And of course, feel free to leave a review!)


	3. Chapter 3

_I'd like to apologize in advance for adding another cliffhanger here despite previously saying this would be the end. Once again I ended up writing longer than I thought that I found it best to split it one final time. Rest assured this really will be the last cliffhanger - and a great thanks to everyone who's been reading until now. Hope you'll enjoy the last two parts!_

* * *

A roar.

It came from above and shook the air and ground Yoshitsu stood on. By the time he lifted his head to see the source of it, his hands unconsciously went fumbling around the dark around him, to look for something, _anything_ to hold onto. But when they found only air, Yoshitsu fell to the ground, his gaze not leaving the sky above him.

The moon was momentarily cut off by a massive shadow sweeping by it. Flapping of impressive wings increased in frequency and pushed the moonlit grass towards the ground, their owner preparing for landing.

Yoshitsu's head shook back and forth, the corners of his mouth twitched with an urge to laugh; insanity must have claimed him at last.

 _I lost it, I lost it now…_

Thick hawk-like legs gripped the ground.

A horned head with triangular, perked ears and a dark muzzle puffed heavily when its large body settled on firm ground.

A thorough shaking relieved the griffin-like body of loose feathers, dancing in the moonlight as they twirled towards the ground.

A tail extended from the creature, so impressive in length it gave the impression of a large snake stalking the tall grass behind it.

Yoshitsu's entire body trembled. His breathing erratic as his mind was trying to make sense of what his eyes were seeing. His hands clenched at the grass below him so hard his knuckles turned white.

Something caught the creature's attention, and it turned away from the freaked out human to smell at the grass by its feet, not having noticed the presence about sixty feet away yet.

Yoshitsu could still not move. His heart raced. He didn't _dare_ move, was too afraid to even blink his eyes. Worried that if he did, the creature in front of him would disappear. Get the final confirmation that this was all in his head, the proof that he'd indeed lost his mind.

What he was looking at right now was… Trico. _Trico!_

There was… no way it could be…!

But when Yoshitsu ultimately had to blink his eyes, and found that Trico was still there, still with his head to the ground sniffing at the surroundings, his feathers reflecting the moonlight even brighter than the field, Yoshitsu breathed and lowered his head. A quiet "No…" escaped his lips. That was all he could think to say. No… it just wasn't real.

Yoshitsu somehow found it in him to finally move. Slowly, trembling, he shifted his feet to the ground to attempt to stand up. He had to do something, lest he figured he might end up fainting where he sat. His stare still fixed onto Trico. Another "No…" was uttered, giving him the strength to follow it up with more disbelieving words.

"It's not…. you're… not…"

Suddenly, Trico jolted.

The wind had carried Yoshitsu's words this time, and the griffin-like body spun around to see the source of the sudden human voice. Large, glowing eyes met Yoshitsu, and a pressing silence erupted.

Meeting Trico's eyes seemed to break through the shock that had held Yoshitsu until now, and finally led way for emotions instead. A lump grew in his throat that would seem to nearly suffocate him as Yoshitsu looked into eyes he hadn't seen since he was a child. Eyes he thought he'd never see again.

If this wasn't real, it felt real enough that he'd treasure it the best he could, Yoshitsu thought. But the lazy wind embracing his body was cold, grass by his feet pricked at his skin, his heart beat so he felt the pounding in his chest. Much like that moment 40 years ago when Trico had left him, where Yoshitsu hadn't been sure either, the same realization hit him now, the moment that Trico returned.

This _was_ real.

"Tri…co…!"

Carefully, he spoke the name. Yoshitsu paid no mind to the tremble in his voice. All he cared about was focusing on Trico in front of him so not to risk him somehow disappearing again. Yoshitsu wanted to take a step forward. He was about to, when he found that this moment perhaps was too good to be true after all.

The sound of his voice made Trico jolt his head. He snorted angrily. His ears flattened and he took a few steps backwards while a growl rumbled in his throat.

Yoshitsu felt a stab to his heart.

"Trico…" he braved himself to repeat, but it only made Trico growl louder, his feathers standing on end like Yoshitsu well recalled he had done with the cursed armours from the valley.

But… why? This was his Trico… wasn't it? It couldn't be that what he was looking at was a different Trico?

No… why would a random Trico appear like this, so close to his village, after 40 years?

Yoshitsu realized something else too. It had only been a few days since he'd found and used the shield. It couldn't be a coincidence that Trico had appeared so shortly after that. There was no mistake this was _his_ Trico.

But then, why was he reacting like this?

The other, and most likely accurate solution just hit Yoshitsu, and he couldn't help but feel dumb for not having thought of it.

That Trico didn't recognize him.

Yoshitsu's brow furrowed again as tears pressed on his eyes now. He briefly looked down at the ground to gather his thoughts somewhat before looking back, Trico still in a defensive stance not daring to take his eyes of him.

Yoshitsu drew a deep breath before he felt brave, or desperate enough, to take a step forward.

"Trico… it's me…"

But his gesture was not appreciated, and Trico roared angrily before taking several steps backwards, before asserting his discomfort by puffing and clawing at the ground. Yoshitsu was briefly afraid that he had been about to take off and leave, but ultimately he didn't. Upset as Trico seemed, he remained on the ground, his gaze not leaving Yoshitsu all the while growling warningly and halfway spread his wings in an attempt to seem even bigger than he was.

Yoshitsu's eyes went blank from the tears still threatening to come out, and he bowed his head in resignation.

Of course Trico didn't recognize him. Trico had known a 10 year old boy. What stood before him was a 50 year old man.

How _could_ he recognize him?

Gazing down at the ground while trying to calm his breathing from both the shock, thrill and then crushing feeling washing over him, Yoshitsu noticed something about his body. The skin markings on his arms.

… wouldn't Trico recognize those?

Feeling a glimmer of renewed hope, Yoshitsu lifted his head to meet Trico's eyes again, still not budging from where he stood keeping his eye on the human.

Yoshitsu couldn't help but wonder: why _didn't_ he fly away? Perhaps Trico had come looking for something too, just like Yoshitsu had. Perhaps they had both felt that sensation that made them at unrest and pulled them towards this spot, towards one another. A sign that even after 40 years, they had remained a bond between them that let them know when the other was close.

Only Trico wasn't able to connect that feeling to the human in front of him.

Yoshitsu slowly lifted his arms, then carefully used one hand to rub at the other in an attempt to pull Trico's attention towards the markings. He wasn't even sure if Trico could see them in the dark. There was a time when they would occasionally glow, when he had traversed the valley with Trico, but ever since Yoshitsu came home, they had remained ordinary, lifeless markings. If only they could glow now, Yoshitsu thought, Trico would surely see them and perhaps, no… _likely_ have recognized him. But regardless if he wished so, Yoshitsu couldn't will them into glowing.

He slowly turned his arms back and forth to properly show the markings, then raised one arm halfway over his head, all while keeping his gaze hopefully attached to Trico's, looking for any trace of recognition in them. Trico followed his arm when it was raised over his head, but no change in his expression or body language was present. Instead he just looked back and gave Yoshitsu the same glowing, angry stare as before.

With an exhale, Yoshitsu dropped his arm, before holding onto it with his other hand to control his shaking while teeth gritted behind his lips.

There was no other way to get through to him... was there..?

Closing his eyes while taking a deep breath, he exhaled again while a small smile emerged on his lips, before once more returning Trico's gaze.

"Trico… I still can't believe this is real… but, I guess this is… enough. To think I'm actually seeing you again… now I know you've been alive all this time..."

Yoshitsu felt the first tear break through and roll down his cheek. "…I'm so glad."

To his slight surprise, Trico didn't respond angrily to his voice this time, but instead tilted his head a little while one ear perked forward, as if trying to understand what he was saying now.

Yoshitsu heard his words as he said them, but Trico's expression made his chest tighten and more tears press further on his eyes. He couldn't believe he was being entirely truthful. That this was really okay.

He _wanted_ Trico to know him. He wanted to _touch_ Trico. To run his hand over his muzzle and hear Trico's cooing, like he had done as a boy. To know that Trico was alive, living and breathing beneath his touch. To know that Trico had missed him too.

But again, Yoshitsu had to remind himself: Trico was an animal. He couldn't be expected to have the same memory or feelings as a human, could he? Yoshitsu wondered, even if he could show some sort of proof of who he was… would it do any difference? Trico might just have the memory of a little human boy he knew once, but would he be able to connect it to some adult human decades later?

Of course the sensible answer was that he likely wouldn't.

Yoshitsu let out a silent chuckle, the second tear breaching his eye and wetting his other cheek.

He had to believe it was enough. There was nothing he could force here. Yoshitsu let his gaze meet Trico's hostile stare again. That's right. Trico… _Trico_ … was right there. He looked healthy. Alive. Like Yoshitsu had wished for that day he turned 18 and left his home… Trico had led a good life.

It had to be enough.

 _In that case… this is goodbye again…_

Yoshitsu decided. If it had to be this way, he'd rather leave now than stay and watch Trico's angered expression towards him in the hopes that something would change. As it now was, it was clear that nothing would.

Yoshitsu's brow furrowed again, a deep breath was taken, and he mentally prepared himself to walk away… when just then, a thought struck him like a lightning bolt.

The _shield._

Yoshitsu nearly gasped loud at the realization. The _shield!_

He turned his head to look behind him, to catch a glance of just how many feet he had walked away from where he left it. At least forty feet.

Even as Yoshitsu couldn't possibly have predicted this situation, he still felt like beating himself senseless for not having brought it now. True, he had just thought nothing might persuade Trico to remember. But the _shield_ … there was no way he couldn't try it.

Turning a near panicked gaze back to Trico, Yoshitsu slowly lifted a hand in a placating motion.

"Easy… please stay there."

Yoshitsu didn't dare turn his back on Trico, worrying that if he did, it would give him the incentive to finally leave. Instead Yoshitsu walked backwards slowly, not letting his gaze leave his old friend. To this, Trico continued the somewhat curios expression from before, tilting his head again and widening his eyes to better see the human moving backwards all of a sudden.

 _Please, don't fly away…_ _ **please,**_ _don't fly away…_

Yoshitsu was terrified now. Terrified of not reaching the shield in time. His body trembled at each step. His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. At one point, his foot hit a rock and he reflexively waived his arms to regain balance, making Trico jolt and let out another angry snort, his ears flattening again. Even before fully regaining balance, Yoshitsu abruptly raised both hands.

"I'm sorry, it's okay!"

He briefly froze and held his breath. Trico calmed down and lifted his head a little, then started slowly pacing towards the left, five steps, then towards the right. But he still wasn't leaving.

Yoshitsu turned his head. The shield was there now, only ten feet away. He walked backwards the last steps, slowly kneeled down to take it, and stood back up.

Trico was a good hundred feet away, and Yoshitsu worried if showing the shield now from this distance, before Trico could see it properly, would lead to him mistaking it for something dangerous instead, and perhaps be tempted to leave from that _._ So Yoshitsu walked closer again, holding the shield sideways by his hip.

Taking the trembling steps back towards Trico who was still slowly taking a few steps one way, then the other way, still with his gaze to the older human, Yoshitsu unconsciously found himself thinking back to the first moment he and Trico had met.

His shock and fear at waking up in a strange cave right next to the so-called "man-eating beast". His wonder and puzzlement at the Trico not attacking, but accepting his offerings of food and eventually letting him climb and pet his body. When Trico began protecting him from danger. Attacking the cursed armours, or catching him whenever he fell or jumped from a great height. How he had cared for Trico after the fight with the other Trico left his Trico bruised and weakened. The following night he had spent curled up by Trico's tummy.

When he watched Trico jump and roll in pools of water, resembling a dog, or when he chased birds. When Trico would bend down simply to make Yoshitsu pet him, cooing happily as he did so.

To all those times he had visited the maple tree, calling for Trico to come back to him.

Yoshitsu stopped about fifty feet from him now. Trico likewise stopped his pacing to look back at him, and Yoshitsu saw him glance at the object he was holding in his hands, his nostrils moving as if he tried to catch a whiff of what it was.

Yoshitsu was shaking more than ever. His arms suddenly frozen in place as he realized he became afraid to show the shield now.

What if it didn't work? What if it didn't do more good than his skin markings? Yoshitsu found the thought of Trico not recognizing him from the shield either was almost more than he could take. Here he met his childhood friend again that he had dreamed of for so long, only to have no way to make him recognize him, and then Trico would just leave him again, not even knowing he had just met the little boy from 40 years ago.

The thought was unbearable.

But what other choice did Yoshitsu have? Was he going to leave here without even giving it that last shot? There was just… no way…

Yoshitsu bowed his head again. Drew his breath, closed his eyes. Listened to Trico's heavy and agitated breathing nearly echoing his. He wondered if Trico's heart was beating as fast as his was.

Then he opened his eyes to look at Trico again, and raised the shield.

As soon as Yoshitsu did, he felt a tremble through his arms. At first he mistook it for his own body going haywire at last from all the tension, when he realized the tremble originated from his hands holding the shield.

The shield. It was vibrating. By his feet Yoshitsu saw the grass strangely lighting up, and he looked down to see the shield flashing bright circles of light pulsing through its rustic surface. Yoshitsu looked up. Trico's eyes widened. The glow in his eyes had brightened further, before they too flashed soft flickers of light, answering those of the shield's. His feathers stood straight up in response, his back hunched slightly, resembling that of a weary cat.

Yoshitsu's heart skipped a beat.

 _Just like the first time…!_

The flickering seized, both in Trico's eyes and from the shield, and what remained was almost a deafening silence where even the wind had quieted as if in anticipation of what this would bring.

Yoshitsu let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and slowly lowered the shield while holding Trico's gaze.

Slowly, he saw, Trico's feathers relaxed. His wings folded. Trico's head lifted, his eyes still widened as he returned Yoshitsu's gaze just as intensely. Then Yoshitsu saw, for the first time that night, the glow from Trico's eyes fading, like they would do when he no longer was weary.

Once again, Trico tilted his head, and a confused whimper emerged from his throat. At that moment, if Yoshitsu didn't know any better, he could swear he saw the thought _"Little boy…"_ go through Trico's mind.

Yoshitsu couldn't stop himself anymore, and tears started pouring.

"That's right." he said, his breath shaking, the corners of his mouth twitching, before shaping themselves into a smile.

"It's me."


End file.
